


Where this old train’s going, you can’t come back from

by KingOfWanderers



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Brotherly Love, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Dream is uncomfortably attached, Emetophobia, Headcanon Accepted, Mumza as death, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Warden Sam | Awesamdude, Younger Sibling TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfWanderers/pseuds/KingOfWanderers
Summary: It’s over in a moment, they were just teasing, he begged him to stop and then he was on the ground.A familiar face greets him in the other side, and he’s so glad to see him again.(Spoilers for Tommy’s March 1st stream)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit, Wilbut Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. It’ll take you when it’s time

The sound of a train rolling to a stop, the clacking of the wheels slowing to a screeching halt drowned out Dream’s cries, dragging himself along the obsidian floor to the boy’s paling body. “Tommy? Tommy, stop playing. Tommy, this isn’t funny. Tommy,” he seemed to mouth, shaking at the boy’s shoulder desperately as the lava wall began to drop.

His legs seemed to move on auto-pilot, minding the gap as he stepped up and onto the eerily empty train. He took his seat, facing the window into Pandora’s Vault. He barely got one last look at that porcelain mask staring down at the boy cradled in his arms - the warden’s attempts at taking him away being shrugged off - before the doors slid closed, and the train pulled away.

He watched the scenery go by, flashes of familiar places.

The dark obsidian of the prison gave way to the red concrete and dark wood of the hotel. 

Then his friend’s house, gone in a flurry of snow, to something he turned away from, squeezing his eyes shut.

Then L’Manburg, from a crater, to the thriving and intact city it was, to the Van it began in.

To his home, the community house, and then…

The train slowed once more, outside the window was blurry for the most part, but what he could make out looked like a...train station. _Makes sense,_ he thought, standing as the doors slid open and a voice he didn’t recognise came over the tannoy.

“This is the last stop, are you sure you want to get off?” She asked, clearly as if she weren’t on a tannoy at all, but stood with him.

“If it’s the last stop, surely there’s nowhere else to go?” He snarked, shoving his hands into his pockets, fiddling with a small trinket nestled within it. He raised an eyebrow and pulled it out, mouth falling into an ‘oh’ when he saw the green crystal glint in the train’s light.

Her laughter brought him back to the moment, it was kind, not teasing, and he couldn’t help but smile having made her laugh. “I guess not,” she replied.

He shrugged, easing some of the tension in his shoulders that hadn’t faded since boarding the train. And just like before, his legs moved on auto-pilot, hopping the gap and out onto the platform.

It would’ve looked like any other train station, if it weren’t for the absence of people. Of assholes barging their way through the crowd, or rambunctious kids chasing pigeons that had found their way down to the platform, or the occasional busker with his guitar case open leaning against a wall.

There was a distinct absence of all but _one_ of those people.

The sweet notes of an acoustic guitar echoed around the empty platform, a song he recalled fondly. He used to sing it to make fun of-

“Wilbur?” He asked, taking a hopeful step towards the man in the beanie hat, guitar resting on his knee.

And the man smiled, fingers resting on the strings, as he looked up to meet the boy’s gaze.

“It’s about damn time, I’ve been waiting here for ages, Tommy,” he said jokingly, setting the guitar down in its case and standing up.

He was just brushing himself off when the boy barrelled into him, near knocking him over with the force as he wrapped his skinny arms around the man’s neck, burying his face in his shirt.

He hesitated, and couldn’t find it in himself to make fun of him. Instead, he rested his chin atop the boy’s golden hair, and pulled him closer, gloved hands running up and down his back.

“I missed you too, Toms,” he said soothingly.

The boy clung tighter, one arm leaving the hug in favour of grabbing ahold of Wilbur’s shirt as if he were scared to let go. His shoulders shook with the strain of holding in _everything_ until the man slid down the wall behind him, pulling him down to the floor too. He pulled the boy into his lap, closing around him, promising him the safety of being there.

And that was there they stayed, until the train station lights began to shut off. One by one, darkening the platform til they could see nothing, the only assurance they were still together being the warmth of the other.

“I’m sorry I have to break up this moment, boys, but I have a job to do,” she spoke once more, light pooling around her.

And a hand landed on Wilbur’s shoulder.

He didn’t startle, or shrug it off. He just smiled - a sad, watery smile - and stood, helping Tommy to his feet, grabbing his guitar case from the floor.

He faced the woman with calm resignation, and wrapped one arm around Tommy’s shoulder.

“We can go together, right?”

And she smiled back, kind eyes crinkling at the corners, “Of course, why do you think I let you wait for him?”

“You waited?” Tommy piped up, voice still wavering.

Wilbur squeezed his shoulders, “I couldn’t just leave you, could I, Tommy? How would you survive without me?” 

Tommy’s head dipped, fringe falling in his face.

“I didn’t.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered, only for a moment.

“No shit,” Wilbur joked.

And Tommy laughed for the first time since the cold hard floor of the Vault.

Wilbur, and the woman, laughed with him.

She reached up to wipe the tears of mirth from her eyes with a ringed left hand, and the ring seemed familiar in some way to Tommy, though he couldn’t quite place it. She caught him staring, and held it out for him to see.

Engraved in the well worn, though well cared for silver band, were the words “your angel.” She pulled her hand back, and fiddled with it, twisting it on her finger.

“Of course there is one _other_ reason I allowed you to hang around for as long as I have,” she smirked, “Your father, Wilbur, would’ve killed me if I hadn’t.”

And nothing more was said, what else was there to say? _A fucking lot, I’d reckon, but I don’t want to piss her off,_ Tommy thought.

“Well, shall we be off?” She suggested, though it was more of a statement than anything.

Wilbur strung his guitar over his shoulder, and Tommy readjusted his bandana, and together they nodded.

And together, they followed on into death.

And she was so happy to have them.


	2. But don’t let it leave you here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the mask cracks.
> 
> (Again, from Dream’s perspective.)

Dream saw red, as he fell to his knees on the dark obsidian floor.

The red on his knuckles. The red sleeves of Tommy’s shirt. The red pooling, and staining the boy’s golden hair.

He braced his bloodied, sore knuckles against the floor and pushed himself towards the limp body in front of him, reaching out to playfully push his shoulder.

“Tommy?” He asked inquisitively, feeling none of the usual resistance he would get from daring to touch the boy.

“Tommy, stop playing,” he repeated, walking forward on his knees and settling next to him, his concerned smile hidden behind the porcelain mask.

He shoved his shoulder hard, and Tommy rolled over, mouth hanging slightly agape and face already bruising around the eyes and nose. The blood began to slow its course, sluggishly trickling over his brow and dripping onto the floor below.

“Tommy,” he reached for the boy’s face, who didn’t flinch away, and cupped his cheek, tenderly wiping the blood away from his eye, “this isn’t funny.”

He patted the cheek, lightly at first. Then slapped him when no response came.

“Tommy.”

He hoisted the kid up, with one hand behind his neck and the other reaching under his arm, and rested him against his shoulder.

“Tommy I was only messing around, you just wouldn’t be quiet,” he consoled the body, brushing his now blood matted hair out of his face.

“Tommy, come on man.”

No response.

“Tommy!”

Nothing.

Dream tucked his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, listening for a sign of life. A tear slid down his cheek behind the mask, and he pulled the boy fully into his lap, tucking him into his arms and under his chin.

He held the now cold, broken boy in his arms, rocking slowly back and forth as if he were comforting a child. And in a way he was. Though the child wasn’t alive to be comforted.

Occasionally, an apology would slip from his lips.

But for the most part, he was silent.

The whole cell was silent.

That was what scared Sam the most.

“Dream? Tommy?” He called from beyond the lava wall.

And no response came.

“Tommy you good in there?”

He tried again, to no answer.

And a minute later, Sam locked eyes with Dream’s expressionless mask over the falling lava wall.

“Where-“ he began to ask as he made his way over, the sight silencing him.

Dream was sat cross legged with his back to their chest, in his arms he cradled the pale, lifeless body of Tommy.

Sam nearly threw up.

“W-what happened?” Sam questioned, taking a step closer to the pair - to Dream, who leaned away.

Dream’s head turned slowly, to stare Sam dead in the face, “He just wouldn’t be quiet,” he whispered, pulling Tommy closer to him.

“So you...killed him?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied monotonously.

He stepped closer once more, reaching out to take Tommy from the prisoner.

“NO!” Dream yelled, slapping his hand away.

“Dream, I have to take him-“

“No,” He repeated, touching the forehead of his mask to Tommy’s.

“Dream, please,” he pleaded, “He deserves to get out of here.”

“Then why didn’t you let him out?” Dream asked, venom dripping from his otherwise calm words.

“I- I couldn’t, you know that,” he reasoned, stepping forward again, penning the prisoner in.

“But you could have, you’re the Warden, Sam, you can do whatever you think is right, right?” Dream explained, cocking his head in mock confusion.

“I couldn’t risk you getting out-“ Sam started, but Dream interrupted, amusement colouring his tone.

“I’m not leaving now am I? The lava is gone, I could just leave.”

Sam stared blank faced, and looked between him and the absent lava wall.

“I promise I won’t ever try to leave, just let me have him.”

And Sam hesitated.

“No, Dream. His friends deserve to see him one last time,” Sam stated with an air of finality.

“I was his friend too.”

_ “Dream,” _ Sam warned.

“Leave me alone, Sam.”

He stepped forward, his shadow engulfing Dream. Sam levered his arm under Tommy’s back, wrenching him away from Dream.

“NO! Sam, please!” He begged - throat raw and words ripping forth with incredible volume - and he screamed, and he punched. His grip on the boy was strong, and he scratched his nails across the boy’s skin as Sam pulled him away.

But Sam now had Tommy in his arms.

And Dream went limp, falling back to the floor.

“Dream,” he said darkly, turning back towards the exit “I’ll drop you some more books down later.”

He walked onto the moving platform, put the netherite wall up, and finally turned back to watch Dream disappear behind the lava wall.

The mask locked eyes with him once more - blood painted across its forehead - he was still on the floor by his chest, arms hanging limply by his sides, his bloodstained fingertips barely scraping the floor.

And then he was gone, image obscured by the bubbling lava.

Sam had never been more glad to see him disappear.

He turned back around, Tommy a dead weight in his arms and on his heart. He stopped by his desk on his way out of the Vault, shifting Tommy to be held against him almost like a toddler on his hip, so he could write with one hand. 

_ Today I have made my first mistake as a warden. _


End file.
